


A Sethmas Carol

by NerdyAdjacent



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Angsty Dean, Asshole seth, Based on A Christmas Carol, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, M/M, My sad attempt at fluff...again, Why do I do this to myself, ambrollins - Freeform, grumpy seth, mentions of domestic violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-08 19:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8857345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyAdjacent/pseuds/NerdyAdjacent
Summary: “It means, it's Christmas Eve and you're stuck in this depressing house, yelling at Christmas carolers!”“Jesus Christ...please tell me you aren't the ghost of Christmas past or something?”





	1. Yelling at Carolers

For it being Christmas Eve, It had been a weird day. For Seth, Christmas usually meant maybe a few house shows, a RAW taping, then home to spend the holidays with family and friends. Since he blew out his knee, it would appear that he was going to be grounded for the holidays. 

He hadn't even bothered decorating. Number one, he couldn't do it with his injured knee; number two, what was the point? He wasn't exactly feeling in the Christmas spirit. In fact, he'd be happy when this stupid holiday was over. It wasn't that he hated Christmas, but he'd be alone for the first time ever. 

His parents had decided that they were going to be taking a vacation this year, Spain. That's all well and good, and they _had_ asked him if he wanted to come, but he'd said no; that he had plans. He didn't have plans. He didn't even have a tree. 

He'd toyed with the idea of calling some friends over for a get together, but they had all said they would be with family. Even Roman would be in Florida this year. It wasn't like Seth didn't understand, because he did. But, shit, now it was just going to be him and the dog. 

He almost called Dean. 

Almost. 

That was a bridge he didn't want to cross. Bad memories and an even worse break-up. Besides, the way things ended between them, he'd be luck if Dean didn't set his house on fire and roast chestnuts on the burning rubble. He wouldn't put it past him. 

So, he decided that he'd just sulk in the house. He didn't need anyone on this stupid holiday. All he needed was some Chinese food and 24 hours of Christmas Story on TBS. Done and done. 

Ralphie had just beat up Scott Farkus when he could hear the sound of music that definitely wasn't coming from the television. 

Was that fucking Christmas carolers? 

With a hefty grumble, he pulled himself to his feet, grabbed his crutches, and hobbled to the front door to peer through the peephole. Just like he thought, carolers, about six of them, bundled up like they were in a blizzard when in reality it was unusually warm for Iowa this time of year. 

He was in no mood for this and pulled open the door. “Hey!”

They all stopped singing right in the middle of Jingle Bells and smiled at him like he wasn't glaring at them. Then they started up again and he had to stop them again. “No, no, no! Get off my porch!”

They looked at him like he had just deflated their tires. He didn't care and pointed to the next house over. “Go bother them!”

They were shocked, but slowly moved off his property. A girl of probably 18 stuck her tongue out at him when they did and he distinctly heard someone call him ‘Scrooge’. 

“Yeah?” He yelled after them. “Well Bah Humbug, fuckers!”

He slammed the door closed and made his way back to the couch. Kevin, his yorkie, was looking at him with a face that clearly read ‘why'd you have to be so mean?’ 

“Don't judge me.” He said and let the small dog climb into his lap to finish the movie. 

By the time Ralphie finally got his Red Rider BB gun for the second time that night, Seth was dozing off. It was getting pretty late and he should probably make his way to bed, but he was comfortable and Kevin was fast asleep in his lap and he was pretty sure here was some rule where if a dog falls asleep on you, you stay put. 

Another knock at his front door jolted him, and Kevin, awake. “The fuck?”

Looking at his watch to see it was clearly too late for anyone to be visiting, he considered ignoring it. So he did. 

Another round of knocking and he was up, again hobbling to the door. He figured, if this was a robber or something, he could always whack them with his crutch. He did feel a little silly thinking that though. Why would a robber knock?

When he gets to the door and looks through the peephole, no one is there. Weird, but maybe they'd just figured he was asleep and moved off. He was still looking through the peephole when the knocking started again, jumping nearly out of his skin. 

“Who's there?” He called, hoping whoever this was would answer. Nothing. “Don't make me call the police! I've got a vicious attack dog!”

He looked back at Kevin and rolled his eyes at himself. Vicious attack dog…

The knocking came again and this time he poised his hand over the knob. He was going to be so pissed if he was murdered on Christmas Eve! 

“Jesus, do you ever answer your door?” 

He turned around so quickly that he lost his footing and fell to the floor, backing himself into the door as hard as he could. There, standing in the middle of his living room, looking extremely annoyed, gently petting Kevin, was...himself. Yes, himself, but, not quite. He looked younger, that blonde streak he had grown out of his hair looking freshly dyed. He was dressed his his Shield gear, stuff he hadn't worn in years. “What the fuck!?”

His younger self walked over to him and crouched down, sniffing a little laugh at him. “Dude, you're looking a little pathetic.”

“H-how...what…”

“Don't hurt yourself, Seth.” He says and holds out a hand to help him up. Seth doesn't take it because he's not exactly sure he isn't having some sort of mental breakdown. “Ok, I guess we’ll talk on the floor.” And Shield Seth folds his legs under him to sit. 

“Am I dead?” 

His younger self laughs and he wonders if he always sounded like that. “Dead? No. You're not crazy either.”

“Then there had to be something wrong with that Chinese food if I'm hallucinating like this.”

“Not hallucinating.”

“What would you call seeing yourself standing in your living room?”

His younger self thought for a second. “Ok, yeah, I can see how that might be seen as hallucinating. But, I'm actually here for a reason.”

“To prove that I've finally lost my mind?”

“No, to help you.”

“With what?”

“You sure you don't want to go to the couch or something?” Shield Seth asks, but again Seth stays put. “Fine, we aren't going to be staying long anyway.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means, it's Christmas Eve and you're stuck in this depressing house, yelling at Christmas carolers!”

“Jesus Christ...please tell me you aren't the ghost of Christmas past or something?”

“Pffffffft!” His younger self laughs. Then, “Yes, yes I am.”

Seth shakes his head then tries to pull himself to his feet, struggles with getting his legs under him, but finally gets up and is immediately heading for the refrigerator. He grabs a beer and drinks it all down in one go. 

“That's not going to make me go away, Seth.” Says Shield Seth, now leaning against his kitchen island with his arms crossed over his chest and a petulant look on his face. That's when he grabs another beer and downs that one too, suddenly wishing he had something stronger.

“I can try, can't I?”

His younger self rolls his eyes and calmly walking to where Seth is opening his third beer before taking it from him and placing it on the counter. “We should go. There's two more ghosts coming and they get so pissy if these things cut into their time.”

“I'm not going anywhere with you!”

Shield Seth sighs. “Its adorable that you think you have a choice.”


	2. Christmas past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, technically there are three Seths in this chapter. I am so sorry if it gets confusing.

It was a quick transition, one he wouldn't have even noticed had he not been standing in his kitchen one second and the next he was in some nameless locker room somewhere. He recognized it, though not really sure why. He's seen so many locker rooms in his time that it was tough to narrow one down from any other, but this one was familiar. 

“How you feeling, Seth?” His younger self asks from beside him. “Sometimes the trip can be a bit jolting. Don't want you puking or anything.”

He rolls his eyes, hoping maybe he was dreaming. Fuck, he very probably hit his head and was lying on his floor back in Iowa, drooling onto the carpet. “Where are we?”

“This doesn't look familiar?” 

“Should it?”

His younger self smiled and nods toward the door. “Just watch.”

He does, annoyed that he was subject to whatever this delirium was about to bring him, when the door opened. In came two men wrapped in each other arms, lips pressed together, hands roaming all over bare chests and groping at trunk covered asses. 

“I can't wait to get these off of you.” 

Oh yeah, now he remembered this. That raspy voice was unmistakable. 

Dean. 

This was five years ago, just before FCW was changed to NXT. He and Dean were still in Florida, in talks to begin forming the Shield. God, they hadn't even began dating yet, they were just fooling around. Which, come to think of it…

“Wait, can they see us?” 

“Haven't you _ever_ seen a Christmas Carol?” Answered his younger self with way more attitude than Seth thought was necessary. Was he always like that? 

“Wait, wait, wait.” The past him said to Dean, pulling back once a hand found its way into the back of his trunks. He remembered Dean's fingers being surprisingly cold for the hot Florida weather. “What if someone sees us?”

Dean shook his head and shrugged. “Who's gonna care?”

“I care.” 

“Well, I don't.” Dean smirked at him and leaned in for another kiss, but Seth had pulled back and stepped away from him. He didn't remember seeing that look on Dean's face before, the one of surprise, disappointment. Maybe he hadn't seen it because Dean had recovered so quickly, shrugging it off like nothing had happened. “Okay, I get it.”

“I'm sorry, but they're promising me a championship when the brand changes over.” His past self said, not sounding sorry at all. “I'll be the first NXT champion! I-I just don't wanna mess that up.”

“Hey, don't even worry about it.” Dean had said, but there's that look again that Seth hadn't seen the first time around. Then he changed the subject while Seth started getting ready to change. “You have any plans for Christmas?”

“Some of the company big wigs want to meet with me to discuss my future.” Seth had answered. “I don't know why they want to do it on Christmas eve, but whatever. Could be a huge opportunity.”

“Oh?” Dean wasn't looking at him, but there was an expression on his face that seemed like it had wanted Seth to say something else. “Good for you, man.”

“Yeah.” His past self had said, grabbed his towel and shower stuff. “Thanks!”

And he was gone, leaving Dean to watch him disappear into the showers. He stopped what he was doing and plopped onto the bench, ran a hand through his messy hair, and sighed heavily. 

“You didn't even ask him if he had plans.” Shield Seth said to him. “Which he didn't. He sat in his shitty apartment watching tv, drinking, and eating Ramen while you were off being promised the world.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“You could have asked him?” 

“Look, I'm not going to feel bad for wanting to better myself.”

“That's all well and good, but I do recall you later that night going out with friends, but you didn't ask him to come.”

Seth opened and closed his mouth a few times, but resigned himself to not answer. There was no answer because he _had_ gone out that night, had an absolute blast, but didn't even think to call Dean and see if he wanted to come. In fact, several of the other wrestlers had talked shit on Ambrose that whole night while Seth just sat back and listened, didn't even try to defend him. 

His Shield self looked at him through the side of his eye. “Were you embarrassed of him?”

“You already know the answer to that.” He replied. 

“I do.” 

“It wasn't like I didn't want him, because I did.” He tried to recover, knowing full well this ghost was going to call him on his bullshit immediately.

Which he did. “But this isn't the first time this has happened, is it? Let's go to another christmas, a little closer to the present.”

Again, the transition was immediate. One minute he was in that locker room, the next he was at a Christmas tree farm with Dean. This was last year and was most definitely not a good memory.

They found himself and Dean pretty quickly, walking together, but Seth wouldn't put his arm in Dean's when he offered it. 

“Why didn't you take his arm?” Asked the ghost in Shield form.

“Because we were supposed to be feuding.” Seth answered truthfully. “If someone had saw us, it could have messed with my title run.”

“There you go again, using the word ‘my’. Did you think that maybe it would have hurt his feelings?” 

He didn't get a chance to answer because Dean was speaking to his past self. He sounded annoyed, put off. Again, Seth didn't remember him sounding like that because he was too busy responding to a text. “What about this one?”

“Sure.” He hadn't even looked up from the phone in his hand. He remembered he was texting with Triple H about an upcoming Pay Per View he would he headlining. He'd be fighting Dean, and Dean was set to lose. But that didn't seem to bother him. 

Dean frowned at him and pushed the phone away from Seth's face. “Can you not do that?”

“It's Hunter, Dean.” Seth snapped at him. “I have to answer it.”

“He'll survive if you don't reply immediately.”

“You don't understand, I have to answer.”

“Whatever.” Dean snapped at him and tried to walk away, but Seth grabbed him by the arm to make him look at him. 

“Why are you being such an asshole?”

“ _I'm_ the asshole? Really, Seth?” Dean shot back at him. 

He remembered being so mad at Dean, so angry. Looking back at it now, it was stupid. He should have put the phone away, should have just put the phone in his pocket. But no. Instead, he and Dean proceeded to have an argument in the middle of the crowded tree lot where Seth walked away from him and caught a bus back to his apartment. They didn't spend Christmas together that year. 

“This was the beginning of the end of your relationship, wasn't it?” His Shield self said to him. He just nodded his answer. “You know he loved you very much, but didn't believe you loved him back.”

“That's ridiculous.” Seth said, swiping a hand under his nose and trying to hide how his voice broke. “I loved Dean.”

“You didn't exactly show it.”

Seth cast his eyes down at the ground. “Can we go, please?”

“Yeah, let's go. You have two more spirits to meet tonight anyway.”

“Goodie.”


	3. Christmas Present

He jolts upright and he's suddenly aware that he's on the couch, in his living room with Kevin on his lap, and that hallucination of himself is gone. It's still dark outside, and looking at his watch he can tell only a few minutes had passed. Hell, Ralphie was still on his screen where Seth last remembered him being. He must have fallen asleep for a few minutes and dreamed the whole thing. 

“Wow, no more Chinese food for me.” He said to himself and shifted down into the couch to continue watching the movie, thankful he could just shake off whatever _that_ was as a dream. 

But it had been so real, and the things he'd seen were moments in his life that he remembered, moments with Dean. A sudden guilt washed over him again and for the second time that night he was tempted to call Dean. He didn't though, because despite whatever guilt he might have felt now, Dean wouldn't just forgive him after everything that had happened. That was a bridge he'd burned, even if he did do it for a completely valid reason. 

He wanted that championship, he wanted to be the face of the company, he wanted to be the future! And he got it, all of it, and it didn't matter who he ran over in the process. Now with his knee shot to hell, Roman seemed to have taken over that roll, but wouldn't hold it for long if Seth had any say in the matter. 

All of that didn't matter right now because it was all a dream and he could carry on with his life like nothing weird would ever happen again. He could just settle in and…

A loud clanging noise suddenly erupted from the kitchen. Seth jumped up off the couch so quickly he damn near sent Kevin flying. Grabbing his crutches, fully prepared to used one as a weapon if need be, he quietly hobbled to the source of the noise. The sound of plates shifting and pots clanging together, and drawers opening got louder and louder until he finally opened turned the corner and…

“Roman!?”

Roman Reigns looked over the open refrigerator door and smiled at him. “Hey, Seth, where's your mustard?”

Dumbfounded, he looked around at the mess his once pristine kitchen was now in. Pots and pans were sitting on the floor, every condiment he owned was now on the counter tops, there was lunch meat packages sitting out on the kitchen island, cut tomatoes and lettuce, while a cartoonishly large sandwich was being made right next to it. “What the hell are you doing!?”

Roman looked at him like he had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. “What's it look like I'm doing? Now, where's your mustard.”

When he closed the fridge door, that's when Seth got a good look at him and realized maybe it wasn't a dream after all! Roman Reigns was dressed head to toe in his Shield gear. The kicker was that only half his tattoo was finished, so this wasn't the Roman of today. “You've got to be kidding me.”

“Ok, I've asked twice now,” Roman said, ignoring the dumbfounded look of realization on Seths face in favor of holding up two bottles of fancy deli mustard in his gigantic hands. “This fancy shit ain't gonna cut it. Mustard?”

“That is mustard.” Seth answered, still a little too shocked to say much more than that. 

Roman rolled his eyes and threw the two bottles over his shoulder, where they shattered when they hit the floor, and started putting the finishing touches on the sandwich. “How you not gonna have yellow mustard, Seth? How's a ghost supposed to enjoy his meal with no yellow mustard?” 

That's when Seth snapped out of it. “Oh, I'm sorry that I like fancy mustard that doesn't come in a squeeze bottle!”

“I'm not saying you're pretentious,” Roman chuckled and took a bite of his food. “But you're condiments say otherwise. You can tell a lot about a person from what they keep in their fridge.”

“You don't say?” Seth sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Yeah.” Answered Roman, completely ignoring the obvious sarcasm in Seths voice. “Take you for instance. You have nothing but leftover pizza, half a jar of pickles, and fancy mustard.”

“Well, I had more, but someone made a gigantic sandwich!” 

“Oh, right.” Roman grabbed the jar of pickles and twisted it open. “Forgot the pickles. As I was saying, the state of your fridge tells me that you are trying so desperately to be one of them, one of the elites. But that's not the kid from small town Iowa that you used to be.”

“Okay, look, I realize you must be the second ghost, right?”

Roman nodded and took another bite. “Yup, Ghost of Christmas Present.”

“Then can we get to whatever you have in store for me so I can sit down and finish this movie?”

Roman stared at him for a few seconds, eyebrows raised, before he gently placed down his food, clapped his hands together to knock off the crumbs, and moved to stand right in front of Seth, who had forgotten just how imposing a presence Roman Reigns was. “I don't think you're taking this seriously.”

“Okay, I'm sorry.” Seth tried to backtrack. 

“Though I don't believe you, you're right.” Said Roman, taking a step back. “Besides, I don't want to be here when the third spirit arrives.”

The way he said that made Seth nervous. “Why? What's wrong with the third spirit?”

“You'll see.” Was the ominous reply. 

Then, the blink of an eye, and Seth was standing in a virtually empty barroom with Roman. There were some sad attempts at decorations, a sickly looking tree in the corner, and some sad little Christmas tune barely heard through the jukebox. There were a few people sitting at the bar, each looking sadder than the next, but one in particular caught his attention. 

That mess of shaggy auburn hair was unmistakably Dean, nursing a glass of some sort of brown liquid and gently flipping his phone over and over in his hands. He looked like he was waiting for something, constantly checking the screen over and over only to look disappointed, take a drink, and start the process over again. 

“Where are we?” Seth asked Roman.

“Las Vegas.” Roman answered, walking toward Dean and beckoning Seth to follow. “He does this every holiday since you two broke up.”

Seth snorted a laugh. “He did this every holiday anyway.”

“Are you really that stupid?” Roman snapped at him. “He did this every holiday because every time you two made plans, you'd bail for some swanky Authority party that he wasn't invited to.”

Seth swallows down any further comments and resigned himself to watching Dean. Again he checked his phone, and when the screen popped up, a picture of Seth and Dean smiling together showed up. This time he put in his passcode and brought up his text messages, scrolling through his contacts until he came to one in particular. Seths. 

That guilt that had been building in his chest now hit him like a Mac truck when he saw the last entry from him. _I'm too good for you, Dean! You're nothing but trash under my shoe!_

Dean started to type something and Seths stomach dropped. _I miss you._ Then he quickly deleted it and ordered another drink. 

“Why didn't he send the text?” Seth asked, trying and failing to will the broken sound of his voice down. 

“Would you have answered?”

In all honesty, he didn't know. So he looked away. 

“And that's why he didn't send it.”

“So what am I supposed to do now? Huh?” He asked Roman, not even bothering to hide the crack in his voice now. “Call him?”

“Maybe.” Roman answered. “But in all honesty, I'm not sure you've learned your lesson yet.”

“What do you mean?”

Roman didn't answer, just nodded for Seth to watch. 

Dean's phone rang and he made to look at it with hope in his eyes that was quickly dashed when the caller ID said ‘Big Dog’. “Hey, Roman.”

There was a long pause while Roman spoke on the other end of the line. Seth could just about hear him through the speaker asking Dean if he was alright. 

“I'm fine.” Dean answered, unconvincingly, which Roman must have brought up. “Seriously, I'm okay.” Then. “No, I'm not drinking.”

Again, Roman must have called him on his bullshit because Dean rolled his eyes and ordered another with a hand gesture to the bartender. 

“Look, I'm not sulking over Seth.” He obviously lied. “He doesn't want me, and I can't force him to, so what's the point?”

Another pause while Roman spoke. 

“No, I'm not coming to Florida.” Dean said, stern. “I'll be okay here.”

The bartender brought his drink and dean thanked him with a nod. “Thanks for calling, man. Give my best to the wife and Jojo. Merry Christmas.” 

“So he'd rather wallow in his own self pity here than go somewhere where he's wanted?” Seth asked. 

“Pretty much.” Roman answered. “He'll go back to his home, drink until he's crying into the toilet bowl, and pass out on the bathroom floor.”

“That's so sad.”

“That's your fault.” Roman said. “One more stop.”

Again, it was only a blink and they were standing in the middle of another locker room. This time, it was full of his friends laughing and talking after a successful house show in Iowa that Seth couldn't be a part of. Jimmy and Jey USO, Heath Slater, The New Day, and a few others were talking about their plans for Christmas that night. 

“Did you guys get the text from Seth?” Heath asked the room. 

“Yeah, but I ignored it.” Xavier answered. “All that power went right to his head. I don't want to sit around and listen to him tell his stupid stories about how he's gonna come back and win the title. It's getting old.”

“Yeah, man.” Jimmy added. “Like, dude only has fancy mustard now. Makes him look like an ass.”

Roman snorted a laugh at his side that Seth resolutely ignored. 

“Besides, I'm kinda over the Architect.”

There were a few ‘me too’s and ‘yeah’s floating around the room. Then someone mentioned drinks, they all agreed, and walked out.

“So, I get the feeling they don't really like me anymore.” Seth said to Roman after a few seconds silence.

“What was your first clue?”

“Ok, I get it. I'm an asshole.”

“Accurate.” Roman said and made a move toward the door. “But you aren't done yet.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Seth called after him once he realized that Roman was about to leave the room. “Aren't you supposed to take me home?”

“Nope.” Was the reply. Then, “The third spirit will meet you here in his own time. I'd sit tight, Seth. And prepare yourself.”

And Roman slipped through the door. Seth ran after him a split second later, but there was nothing but an empty stadium hallway to meet him. 

That third spirit better be worth the hassle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mustard scene curtesy of demonjeans


	4. Christmas Future

“This is exactly how I expected to spend my Christmas.” Seth grumbled to himself and hobbled down yet another empty, dark, stadium hallway on his crutches. This place was a goddamn maze and it was like every turn he made was just one more endless hallway. “Fucking haunted by ghosts which goddamn attitudes. This third spirit better be worth it.”

What struck him as strange - well, not as strange as a ghost raiding his refrigerator - was the fact that there was no one around; no crew, no stadium employees, nothing. 

“Hello?” Seth called into the empty space and was answered by his own voice echoing back at him. “Fuck.”

Oh how he longed for his couch, his warm house, his dog. But, however strange this whole ordeal may have been, it did open his eyes to the fact that maybe he wasn't what he thought he was, didn't treat people like he should...especially Dean. 

Poor Dean, alone on Christmas Eve, drinking himself into a stupor, pining over what he lost, what Seth took from him for petty reasons. The last text seth sent him, he called him trash and not worth his time. In retrospect, that was probably pretty harsh. Maybe Dean didn't deserve it. 

He turned another corner, but rather than an empty hallway, he was met with a man facing away from him, black tactical gear with his hood covering his head. This could only be one person.

“Dean?” He said softly and the figures shoulders tensed, taped hands curled into fists. “A-are you the ghost of Christmas future?”

The figure nodded slowly and turned around. 

Seth took a step back. It was Dean alright, the Shield version of him, skull face mask firmly in place while angry, calculating eyes bore holes into Seth. He'd been on the receiving end of that look before, but this was different, cold, otherworldly, dangerous. He looked, for all intents and purposes, deadly. It shook Seth.

Dean motioned for Seth to follow him without saying a word. He tried to square his shoulders, keep his head up under the scrutiny of this version of his former partner, not exactly excited at the thought of following this spirit anywhere. “W-where are we going?”

Dean said nothing, but that deadly stare seemed to get even more dangerous, as if not obeying would be a very poor decision. So, though tentatively, Seth followed Dean until they came to a door. Dean pointed to it. With a shaky hand, Seth opened it and walked through. 

They were back in that same barroom in Vegas; same sad decorations, same sad music playing, same Dean sitting in the corner. The only difference was the beanie and sunglasses he wore. 

“Is this in the future?” Seth asked the deadly Dean standing next to him. He only answered by pointing to the front door just as Roman Reigns walked through dressed in street clothes. He looked around for a few seconds until he spotted Dean and made a beeline for him. Seth and the spirit followed him. 

“Dean, I've been looking all over for you!”

Dean snorted a laugh, “Couldn't have been looking too hard. I've been here for the last hour.”

Roman pulled up a stool and sat next to him. “Listen, I'm worried about you. This man you're dating isn't good for you.”

“That's not up to you, is it?” Dean answered him, tight and depressed, downing the last of his drink and ordering another. 

“I know Seth really did a number on you, but -”

“This has nothing to do with Seth, Roman.”

Roman rolled his eyes just as the bartender dropped off Dean's drink. When Dean made to take a sip, Roman took it right out of his hand. “How stupid do you think I am? This guy is the spitting image of Seth.”

“Maybe I have a type.” 

“He's cruel, Dean.” Said Roman and Dean tensed, looked away from him. “I know what he's doing to you.”

“It's none of your business, Roman!” Dean snapped at him. “He says he loves me!”

“That's not a good enough reason to stay!” Roman shouted, drawing the gazes of a few of the other patrons. Then he composed himself and leaned in close. “You're a strong man, Dean. Why do you let him do this? The Dean I knew wouldn't take shit from anyone, would fight back. This isn't you.”

“You don't know what your talking about.” Dean said, abnormally quiet for the outspoken man. “He loves me.”

“He's going to kill you one of these days.” Roman said. “I can't in good conscious let you do this.”

“I'm fine, Roman.”

“Take your sunglasses off.” Roman demanded and Dean tensed up. Slowly, tentatively, he removed his glasses and revealed a nasty looking shiner. Roman shifted and shook his head. “Dean…”

Dean shot to his feet and put his glasses back on. “You know what? I don't need to sit and listen to this! Don't call me anymore, Roman!”

And Dean stormed out the door, leaving a dumbfounded Roman to do nothing but watch. 

Seth looked toward the spirit. “Will he be alright?” 

Shield Dean looked at him and shook his head no. 

“Does that man...you know…?”

Shield Dean nodded and Seth drew in a sharp breath. “Oh god.” 

The spirit again indicated for Seth to follow him. Though reluctant, Seth did as he was told and followed this version of Dean through another door. This time, he found himself in an opulent home, marble and gaudy statues everywhere, but it was cold and lonely. He continued to follow Dean until he reached a grand dining room. At one end sat a man, one Seth recognized because that man, was himself. He looked bored and depressed, sitting alone at a table built for twelve. 

“Is that me?” 

Dean nodded.

“Alone? On Christmas?”

Another nod.

“Did I invite people?”

Nod.

“No one wants to hang out with me, do they?”

Nod.

He looked back at himself just as he stood up, grabbed a bottle of some sort of alcohol, took a long drawl, and walked away. “Merry fucking Christmas.”

Seth took a deep breath and let all this information set in. If things continued the way they were, he'd not only end up alone, but Dean would end up…

He didn't want to think about it because he could change it. He could save Dean, he _wanted_ to save Dean. It wasn't like he still didn't have feelings for the man, but the bridge burned might not be able to be rebuilt. 

“Can I change things?” 

The spirit in Dean's form nodded.

He felt the sting of the tears in his eyes. “I want to! I want to change things! I will change things! Take me back, please!”

Dean glared at him and tilted his head just so, observing Seth with a kind of dangerous curiosity like he was sizing him up, ready for a fight like his Dean had done so many times before. 

“Please.” Seth repeated. 

Then, the spirit reared back his fist like he was about to punch Seth square in the nose. He scrunched up his face, ready for impact. 

But none came.


	5. Reconnecting

Seth started awake and found himself lying on his floor in front of the couch and Kevin licking his face. There was light streaming through the window and ralphie was replaced by some early morning tv anchor talking about how Santa had come during the night. 

It was morning.

“It's morning!” He cried out happily, and grabbed Kevin to kiss him over and over again on his head. “It's Christmas!”

Then he was up, remembered his knee, and fell back onto the couch. He reached over and grabbed his phone and quickly found several text messages from Roman. 

_Hey, have you heard from Dean?_

_I think he's drinking again._

_Guess not_

_Merry Christmas_

Seth ran a hand down his face. It was true? Did everything he'd thought he'd dreamed actually happen? He thought back to the...whatever they were...and frowned. It's funny, he never actually hated Dean, not even a little bit. They had dated for years and Seth was happy. But he had done so many horrible things to Dean, so many terrible words spoken for absolutely no good reason other than selfishness and pride. He pushed away one of the best things that had ever happened to him, for what? A fancy belt? A paycheck? 

“How could I be so stupid?” He said to himself and looked at Kevin observing him with that look all dogs have, like they're screaming the answer at you with a tilt of their head. He looked at his watch. “Think we can make it to Vegas by noon?”

Kevin let out a small yip.

Vegas it was.

\---

He didn't even bother changing and only packed up a small carry on bag that consisted of a tooth brush, a pair of socks, and the dog. His head wasn't exactly in the game. But he touched down at the airport and grabbed an Uber to Dean's house. When he actually arrived, that's when the panic started to set in and he sat in the car outside for a long time just looking at the front door. 

“You gonna get out, dude?” The uber driver asked, looking back at him with an expectant glare. 

Seth sighed, “ Yeah, just...give me a minute.” 

“It’s your money.”

It took a few more minutes before he finally opened the door, thanked the driver, and waited on the sidewalk while he drove away. What was he doing? This was ridiculous. All because of some spirits - that may or may not have been a hallucination - told him he'd been an ass, true as that may be. 

He shouldered his bag and gave Kevin a comforting pat. “We got this.”

He walked up the front walkway and half expected Dean to head him off at the pass, but he made it to the front door. He rose his hand to knock and hesitated. He’d made it this far, why was he chickening out now? No, he’d come this far…

He took a deep breath and knocked three times. And waited. 

And waited.

And waited.

Nothing. He wondered if Dean was even home, but then he remembered what the spirit Roman Reigns had said about dean drinking himself into a stupor until he passed out on the bathroom floor. Maybe Dean couldn’t get to the door. Ok, if he remembered correctly, Dean left a spare key in a fake rock in a flowerpot. Yup, it was still there. 

He let himself in and couldnt believe the absolute mess that was Deans living room. Clothes piled on every couch and chair, there were dishes with old food lying on flat surfaces, mail piled high on the floor, and a weird smell he couldnt quite place. 

“Jesus, Dean.”

He put Kevin down and let him roam. Carefully, he made his way to the master bathroom. He wasn't surprised to see him lying on the bathroom floor, but he felt his heart break at the sight of him curled in on himself. He crouched down. Careful of his knee, next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Dean started and looked up at him through bleary eyes, confused and unbelieving. “Seth?”

He gave him a little smile. “Hi Dean.”

“W-what are you-?”

“Lets not get into that just yet.” He said and got his hand under Deans shoulders to get him into a sitting position. “How much did you drink?”

“Jack Daniels.”

“No, not what did you drink, how much did you drink?”

“All of it.”

He sighed and shook his head. “Can you stand?”

It took some doing, but he managed to get to his feet and hand to lean on the sink to steady himself, obviously trying to will down the nausea. He looked at seth through the side of his eye. “Why are you here? And why are you in pajamas?”

“That’s a long story.” Seth answered and helped guide Dean toward his bed. 

He plopped down and Seth began untying his shoes. Dean watched him with an odd expression that Seth couldn’t quite place. “Am I dreaming?” He asked suddenly. 

Seth smiled. “Nope.” Then he stopped what he was doing and looked Dean directly in the eye. “I owe you an apology.”

Dean sniffed a laugh. “Understatement.”

“I was an absolute ass to you and you didn't deserve it. I did love you, Dean. Very much.”

Dean was quiet, just sort of observing Seth with a look that was clearly trying to figure out is he was being bullshitted or not. Then, “ _Did_ love me?”

“Do love you.” Seth corrected and realized that he had never said anything so true. Damn those spirits. 

Dean smiled, a genuine grin. “I missed you.”

Seth smiled back and leaned in to place a gentle kiss on Deans lips. It was quick, but definitely spoke volumes about what Seth was feeling. Before he could pull away, Dean wrapped his hand around Seths neck and pulled him down for a deeper kiss. “Will you stay this time?”

Seth nodded. “Yeah, i’ll stay.”

What a weird and wonderful Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read and left comments and kudos on this silly little story! You all rock!


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